


Kissing the Dead

by Tyleet



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-22
Updated: 2009-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyleet/pseuds/Tyleet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing the Dead

  
The universe took my time, my past, and my planet from me. In return it gave me back Jim Kirk.

Who would have ever thought that Jim Kirk would be an adequate trade for Vulcan? Not he, nor I. Certainly not the good doctor, despite all he claimed to the contrary. I do not think even he would take pleasure in this triumph of emotion over logic.

I have waged a war between those two poles for my entire life. Human and Vulcan, mother and father, I believed, after V’Ger, that I had found a balance.

Now it seems fate has forced me to this senselessness at the end of my life, as I chose reason as a child. Jim Kirk leans forward to kiss me, moved by careless curiosity, and nothing more. I am powerless to resist.

_“I must not abandon my duties.” Though they would lead me far from you, for too long a time._

_You drew me back into the sheets and brushed your lips against my ear._

_“I didn’t think you would,” you said, sounding amused, failing, as ever, to be torn apart by who I am. “But I’ll miss you.”_

I have kissed James Kirk many times in my life. Willingly, lovingly, very occasionally against my will, I have felt the press of his fingers on mine and the touch of my lips to his.

_You were covered in blood, that first time, but so was I. Your hands on mine were strong, and I closed my eyes. It did not help; I could hear, as ever, the smile in your voice._

_“Spock,” you said, cool human breath against my cheek, “It’ll work.”_

I have always welcomed it.

_You were golden and grim and I resisted till the last, bringing myself, finally, to plead. Your hands were warm and your blood was warmer and you had strength but I was the stronger._

_When I awoke from the fire with you limp beneath me, I thought I could never know such emptiness._

Never did his kiss hurt me, no matter the human passion behind it. Not even those times we believed our embrace to be the last—or the time that it was.

_Struggling to maintain my last moments in dignity, I tried to explain, though I am not sure you heard me._

_Our fingers were separated by a thick layer of glass and ten minutes we could never take back, but that feeling—the impossible brown of your eyes—it was far more than enough.  
The last thing I saw was your face. _

But with this kiss, this child who might have been Jim in my arms, I find I can barely breathe. My throat closes and a shudder crawls through me; I cannot control my reactions. My blood races, and my heart tries to beat out of my chest.

_I remembered nothing save your name. You traded everything you had for that moment, and I saw you realize it, in full view of the Elders, my father, your crew, and Seleya-that-is-no-more. You caught me and held me and cradled my hand against your cheek. The expression on your face—at once exhausted and terrified, and as though you held that which was most precious in the universe—that I have never forgotten._

He moans and clutches harder at my shoulders. I feel the cool pressure of his tongue against my lips and the sting of my eyes in one breath. There has only ever been one choice for me.

I will let myself be burned.

_“Come on, what could it hurt?” you asked teasingly, looking up at me with wicked eyes._

_“The High Priestess’ rest facility is hardly the appropriate place—“ but then you took my hand in yours. I could see a trace of pink as you trailed your tongue against the bottoms of your teeth._

_I had you pressed up against the sink with your shirt halfway off, and you were laughing._

His hands wrap around my arms, running deliciously up and down. When I finally return the pressure of our lips he makes a small, delighted sound into the corner of my mouth. When I lick at the roof of his mouth he shivers predictably and presses himself closer, groans in a voice so familiar, and my eyes finally close and his fingers meet my fingers and Jim, how I’ve missed you.

_“Let’s be as bold as we once were,” you murmured, thumb stroking at the skin grown loose at the juncture of my neck and jaw._

_My eyes traced the cares in your face, t’hy’la, and I knew I could name each one. “Always, Admiral.”_

The pressure of his mind, hot and ready for my touch, only barely contained by skin and bone…I had forgotten. My fingers hover at his forehead, almost but not quite touching. That which was broken inside me sings to life for the first time in nearly sixty years, demanding I renew what is mine.

_I felt our bond break when I was thousands of miles from your side, too far even to hear your thoughts. I had not spoken to you in six months, as I was then deep undercover in Romulan space. Romulans are permitted to show grief. For this alone I was thankful._

My fingers touch.

_In those black days when I first lost you, I considered Talos IV. I knew what awaited me there: not eternal youth, nor true love spent in bodies made beautiful. Just you, as you were. As I remember you._

Your mind explodes underneath mine, and I feel your young erection thrust into my hip. Your emotions pour over me: lust, fear, confusion, uncertain affection, and a faint, flickering hope. Exactly as I remember you. Everything I could have wished for.

_I did not return to Talos IV. Because I remember you._

Slowly, slowly, I draw myself away. Our lips part, and his mouth moves, for a second, against the air. I withdraw from his mind with infinite care, leaving everything as I have found it, and drop my hand to his shoulder. His eyes open.

“Your eyes are blue.” My voice is rough, but gentle.

“Why,” he breathes, insecurity flashing over his beautiful face. His hands reach out for me again, and I have no choice but to catch them in my own.

“Because,” I say, with a small smile which I know he will view as very, very old, and which was never mine to begin with, “I will never choose an illusion.”

He stiffens, nods with a stubborn jaw, and turns away. But I know. Reality was made for you and I; I will not betray either the future or the past. It is well.

_I watch them, dear one, as I cannot help but watch them. You would laugh at me, were you here._

_I watch as they argue more viciously than you and I ever did, I watch as my younger self softens and begins to shape himself into something new under the eyes of his Nyota._

_And I see the moment when their argument ends, and he very, very heedlessly catches my counterpart’s hand, and tugs him along._

_My younger self inhales sharply, and looks as though he will pull away, a green blush rising in his cheeks. I do not think I could ever have been that easy to read. I have expected it, but nonetheless, a sharp ache materializes in my chest._

_He does not pull away, but allows himself to be dragged along._


End file.
